Destiny
by Michael-Harambay
Summary: Some Autobots get a pet. Little do they know what the humans really are.
1. Chapter 1

Skyfire's peds made tracks in the dirt as he meandered through busy, dusty streets. They were headed back to Cybertron. The _Ark _had made a circuit of the last known locations of some neutral settlements, but only a handful from each place had taken up the offer. Only half the crew was allowed to be off ship at a time, so everyone took turns being on shore leave with a partner.

Luckily for him, Perceptor wasn't interested in getting out more.

He shook hands with a smiling parts dealer, the contact transferring forty credits between them. That was everything on Perceptor's list. Turning away, the jet caught sight of a neon orange booth further down. What a stupidly bright color. And ugly. But if the color was there to attract potential customers, it was working, because now he was curious as to what such an colorblind person could possibly be selling.

He noticed the wiry containers first. Then he noticed what was _in_ them.

Ah, so it was organics the red opticked mech was selling. Organics were like drones but with a lot more maintenance, and before the war the fad of owning a particular species had always disappeared before reappearing whenever a celebrity got one. Organics also proved an interesting study. As a former xenobiologist, he wondered what kind were being sold now. He recognized most of the species despite never personally owning one, unless dissecting them counted.

Then a creature toward the back caught his optic. It appeared to be hunched over, and he couldn't see its face behind the long strands of fiber that grew from its helm. It looked strikingly similar to a mech.

"Can I help you?" The mechanism behind the booth said.

"Hello. I was wondering, what kind of animal is that in the back? I've never seen one before."

The green mech looked over his shoulder at what Skyfire was talking about - the movement revealing a second cage next to the first - and shrugged.

"Not sure." He admitted. "Some guys caught them on Telarus-2, though what a couple of organics were doing running around an energon refinery is beyond me."

Skyfire nodded. Telarus-2 also served as a nature reserve for some of the organic species their war had nearly wiped out. Nothing sentient - organics simply weren't capable of the processing power - but it was as good a place as any to dump one's pets if you were in the cosmic neighborhood.

"Could I see one?" Skyfire asked, the sight of the second one proving his theory that they were indeed very mech-like.

"If you're looking for something fun you got the wrong idea," the seller chuckled. "They don't like interacting."

"Why are they in separate cages?" Skyfire asked, though he could probably guess.

The mech confirmed his guess, lifting both cages as he said, "Pretty sure they're a sexually reproducing species, though I never seen 'em mate. I keep them apart just in case."

He deposited the cages on the counter up front so Skyfire could inspect them.

The little beings were deathly still and oddly quiet. Both watched him watching them, and the one with the longer helm fuzz curled up even more than it already was. They both looked terrified. He reached his fingers through the bars of the cage holding the short-haired one, and it only dropped into a crouch when he poked it.

Perhaps they _were_ domesticated. There was something_..._tame about them. Even Skyfire was surprised when he said, "How much for the both of them?"

He wanted to study them. What purpose did resembling a Cybertronian serve? Did they behave better when in the same habitat? How _did_ they reproduce? Plus, they were kind of cute, though the outwardly collected scientist would never admit it.

"Twenty credits"

"For both?" Skyfire had to clarify. The price seemed a little low.

The seller smirked, his red optics making it a more menacing look to the Autobot than intended. "No one else will take them. Personally, I think they're pretty lame."

Skyfire tilted his helm. "Very well."

He couldn't very well subspace the animals - that would be messy - but he didn't feel like having his hands full on his trip back to the _Ark_. Unlatching the top of one cage, he tilted it so that the creature inside was forced to slide out. It made a ruckus of high pitched screeches while he held it, but quieted down again when he deposited it with the other. The jet failed to notice the two hug each other as he subspaced the now empty cage before picking up theirs.

The creatures jumped at every little (or loud) noise as Skyfire walked, lost in his own thoughts about how pleasant the trading center was and how Perceptor was going to think he was an impulse buyer now and how he couldn't wait to show Wheeljack.

Several of his fellow Autobots were lounging about on the shuttle that would take them to the _Ark_, talking with locals or messing with whatever goods they had bought. Treading long strides up the ramp, Skyfire passed Ironhide, who looked particularly pleased.

"What?" He asked. Ironhide looked up from what he was assembling on a seat - a small gun of some sort - and smiled.

"Bee's gonna love this. The charge can't hurt anyone, but he can practice aiming at stuff now." Skyfire smiled at the mental image of Ironhide's sparkling charge trying to hit a target.

"The slag did _you_ buy?" Ironhide suddenly said, motioning to the mesh container. Skyfire set the cage on a seat.

"A couple of organics. I found their frame design to be inter-"

"Hah! They look like little mechs!" Ironhide laughed, crowding closer. He stuck a digit between the bars to stroke the peculiar helm fuzz on one, but both shrieked and launched themselves to the other side. Frowning at the rejection, he grumbled, "Not very friendly."

"They're not." agreed Skyfire. He carefully put the cage under his seat as more mechs began filing in, and soon the transport shuttle was in the air. A couple of people commented on it, but nobody thought them strange considering the things _Sideswipe_ brought back from leave.

Soon they were back on the ark. Skyfire couldn't help but smile at the adorableness of Bumblebee attaching himself to Ironhide's leg when they disembarked, eagerly asking if he'd brought him anything. The sparkling gushed over the tiny blaster that was presented and hugged Ironhide's leg again for good measure before sprinting over to show Bluestreak his new (and purposely unloaded) weapon. "Look what Ironhide got me!"

Skyfire observed the two. Bluestreak was smiling, but his doorwings told a different story.

"Maybe Prowl will get you one when he goes out." Bumblebee said, trying to cheer him up. But everyone knew Bluestreak's caretaker was busy, and that it was doubtful that he'd go planetside at all this time around.

Poor kid. Skyfire wished there was something he could do.

_Unless_…Prowl was going to kill him.

"Hey, Bluestreak." The jet called, rather liking his idea the more he thought about it. Both focused on him, and Bluestreak said, "Yeah?", walking closer. Skyfire unsubspaced the empty cage.

"_I_ got you something."

Instantly the kid brightened, curious. "From Khalis?! What is it? Is it a gun?" Bluestreak babbled. Now he could go to the shooting range with Bee! But Skyfire shook his helm.

"No, it is not a gun. Can I trust you to be responsible?"

"Yes, Sir." The youngling said, cute in his sudden seriousness. Skyfire moved the cage with the organics inside in front of Bluestreak and said, "Would you like to look after one of these for me? You would have to feed it and clean after it."

Bluestreak's optics widened the size of dinner plates. "Woah. Are those _real_ aliens?"

Skyfire chuckled and said, "Indeed."

He unlatched the top of the cage and gently scooped out the calmer of the two, the one with the short helm fuzz. Reclosing the cage, he said, "Organics are very fragile. If you hold it too hard you might damage or even deactivate it. You have to hold it gently."

Bluestreak nodded vigorously, and Skyfire let the youngling reach out and pet the creature for a minute. Then he shifted his hold on the completely still organic (except for its pump, was beating exceedingly fast) and passed it to Bluestreak. The organic was roughly the size of a cyber-cat compared to the youngling.

Bluestreak giggled when the action caused it to make some funny noises, and Bumblebee leaned in to get a better look.

"It's so small!" The other sparkling exclaimed. Like he was one to talk.

Skyfire got their attention again. "Keep this in your quarters," gesturing to the empty cage. "And feed and water it regularly."

"Okay! Thank you!"

"You're welcome." Rumbled Skyfire even as they scampered away to go show Ironhide and whoever else would listen, and he heard Bumblebee ask, "So what're you gonna' name it?"

He picked up the remaining cage and returned to his lab. He had just set it on his work table when he remembered Perceptor was expecting those supplies.

* * *

Bluestreak giggled as the alien attempted to hide itself behind the datapads on Prowl's shelf. He could totally still see it. It peeked out at him and made a series of bark-like noises.

Did it make those noises to ward off predators? Maybe that meant it was hungry? Speaking of hungry, he was starting to get low on fuel. _Ooh_! He could take it to the rec room with him! Picking up a bag of food Skyfire had given him, the youngling held out his servo. "Come."

But the alien didn't come. _Oh well_, the youngling thought, as he reached between the datapads and got it himself. He'd train it. Exiting his and Prowl's quarters, he walked to the sparsely populated rec room.

"Heya 'Blue."

Bluestreak smiled up at Hound and Trailbreaker. "Hi Hound! Hi Trailbreaker! Can I sit with you?"

"Sure." Trailbreaker said, scooting over.

"What you got there?" Hound said, motioning to the thing in Bluestreak's arms. Bluestreak grinned.

"Skyfire got me a pet."

Trailbreaker spit out his energon and declared, when his intake cleared, "It looks like a mech!"

"I know." Bluestreak said, putting the animal on the table. "Bumblebee says it's as smart as a one too. It keeps getting out even when we put stuff on its cage."

Hound and the creature regarded each other with equal suspicion. "Have you trained it to come when you call? Then it wouldn't matter."

"How do I do that?"

"Well, you could give it fuel whenever it does something you like. Positive reinforcement. Here, I'll show you."

With the kid's permission, Hound took out a piece of food and held it out. "Come on."

But the alien was most certainly _not_ coming on, attempting to simply get another piece from the bag. When Bluestreak held _that_ out of reach, it sat down and crossed its arms, glaring at Hound darkly.

Trailbreaker snickered, "Now it _really_ looks like a mech."

"Try and feed it from your servo from now on." Hound said, tossing the bit of food back to the defiant alien. "Get it to connect you with fuel."

"Okay."

"-Did you get that from Skyfire?" Wheeljack asked, coming over with his breakfast ration. He had spotted them while walking in.

Bluestreak nodded. "How did you know?"

"He let me run some tests on his other one. Completely _harmless_ tests." the engineer amended at Bluestreak's heartbroken expression. "Strange how they look so Cybertronian."

Bluestreak nodded again, and the alien ducked behind his arm at Wheeljack's approach. "Did _you_ get anything from Khalis? Ironhide said you were down there."

Wheeljack's head fins brightened along with his mood. "Did I get anything from khalis? Did I get anything from _Khalis_?! A better question would be what didn't I get from Khalis; Ratchet and I have enough parts to build an army of drones!"

"Too bad they'll only be used to repair an army of idiots." Trailbreaker sighed.

Wheeljack continued as if the visored mech hadn't spoken. "They had such a bargain, too. We had to have our own transport just to lug it all up here. Prowl's having Sideswipe do inventory on it now as punishment for something."

Bluestreak thought that sounded like an easy punishment, but maybe it was worse than he thought. Wheeljack started, "What does Prowl think of...where'd it go?"

Immediately all four of them froze, glancing at the table where Bluestreak's new pet should have been. Nope.

"Well I'll be…." Hound breathed. Bluestreak looked like he wanted to cry.

Trailbreaker facepalmed. "Woah. That little rodent totally gave us the slip." Which was bad considering they were both scouts and Hound was in special ops.

Bluestreak whined "Help me find it!" and hopped up. Hound started looking under tables and Wheeljack moved to the bar, though he doubted it could have made it all the way over there in such a short amount of time. "Where did it go?" He muttered.

A horrified shriek split the air, and everyone glanced up to see Sunstreaker dance away from the couch that dominated the middle of the room like it was a horde of scraplets, before going back to ignoring him for their own safety.

"Found him." Trailbreaker grinned.

"Who let this disgusting _thing_ in here!" Sunstreaker howled, transforming his right hand into a blaster.

Bluestreak cried "No!" and grabbed the alien from where it cowered against the couch. It squirmed as Sunstreaker thundered, "IT TOUCHED ME!"

"Would you chill Sunstreaker?" Hound reprimanded. "It can't hurt you."

The yellow Twin narrowed his optics at Hound and snarled, "It's disgusting secretions can hurt my _finish_!"

Trailbreaker rolled his optics, but stopped when he remembered he had a visor and no one could see it.

"Keep a better optic on that _thing_" Sunstreaker spat before stomping out of the rec room, probably heading to the wash racks to rid himself of the "organic contamination".

Bluestreak stroked the shaking alien, but the motion only seemed to distress it more.

"Maybe you should go put it back in your quarters." Hound said, equally confused by the organic's display.

"...Okay."


	2. Chapter 2

Connie was alone again, the white mech who apparently owned her gone. She twisted restlessly in the blanket he was *kind enough* to give her. Really, she should be using this time to sleep. One, because that was pretty much all she could do right now. She might actually die of boredom if these metal monsters didn't do it first. And two, because she never knew when she'd get the next opportunity. She hated falling asleep only to be jarred awake as _he _picked her up. It was terrifying, and it always took her a moment to remember where she was.

But she was too tired to be tired, if that even made sense. Too nervous. When was White coming back? When he did, would it be to torture her some more? Would he bring that horrible finned robot with him?

White had brought David, once.

She'd woken up to the robot tapping on her cage, and then she'd seen him. He was _alive_. She'd got to touch him too, know he was alright, and the phantom feeling of that long hug haunted her. Regardless of their past differences, the idea of not being alone in this nightmare gave her hope. Somewhere in this place, she had a friend.

Something suddenly clattered around the corner, instantly alerting her. She sat up. What was that? Was White back so soon? But then to her relief (and somewhat dismay), two robots, neither of them hers, came into view. They bickered in that staticky language of theirs, the red one messing with some drawers while the yellow one ruffled through the cabinets above him. If Connie had to guess, she'd say they were searching for something. The red one groan-beeped and turned around, evidently put out at not finding whatever it was. Their eyes met.

Oh, no.

He immediately perked up, tapping his companion on the shoulder. Yellow responded to the touch by punching him in the face. So sudden was the attack that Connie flinched. The hit didn't seem to faze Red though as he pointed at her, drawing the yellow one's fierce gaze..

Connie gulped. _Nonononono_-

Red eagerly stomped up to the table and dropped so that his enormous face was level with hers. Then he beep-whirred happily at Yellow, who vehemently shook his head at whatever was said and snarled something else.

After a short conversation of beeps and clicks the two seemed to reach an agreement of sorts, or at least a stalemate. Yellow walked off. Red called after him, seeming hesitant, but then made up his mind. The floor beneath her shook as he swiftly undid the latch, and then she was roughly snatched up and carried away to whatever destiny was in store.

* * *

"Oh come on Sunny, it'll be _hilarious_!" Sideswipe called, grabbing the tiny organic before catching up. Primus he hoped it didn't leak or otherwise do something gross on him. He was no Sunstreaker, but he did have some standards.

"Don't call me that!" Sunstreaker scowled, tossing the look over his shoulder. His optic widened. "And put that thing back where it came from or so help me-"

"Huh, maybe I should put it on _you _as a prank." Sideswipe interrupted, dangling the animal by a trod near his brother's face. As expected, Sunny shoved him away with,

"_Touch me and you're dead_!"

"Hey, you made it mad!" Sideswipe yelped when it started making a high pitched noise. "Frag me, why's it doing that? Make it stop!"

"Maybe because it can sense you're in idiot, and last time I checked, things don't like being held upside down." Sunstreaker said. "Learn how to hold stuff you glitch."

"Oh, well if you're such an expert, why don't _you _hold it?" Sideswipe held it out again.

"Because taking that thing was _your_ idea. I refuse to take part in this."

Sideswipe laughed but made sure to hide the creature in his hands as they passed Hound. Didn't want to get shut down before the fun even began.

"Please be quiet, please be quiet." Sideswipe cooed at his adorable little prank material.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "It can't understand you, half-wit."

"Haha, "_half-wit"_? 'Cause we're _Twins_?"

_PUNCH _

"I deserved that."

The tiny organic stopped crying in his hands just as they reached their destination; one of the training rooms. Which was good - how was he supposed to place it on his victim if people could hear it a parsec away?

Their "victim" turned out to be a certain red mech who, in Sideswipe's humble opinion, deserved a little lesson. And a little blackmailing.

Cliffjumper was too busy firing at his target to give them any frags, and his short stature made placing the alien on his shoulder even easier. Then, as if Primus himself had heard their plea and the alien was in agreement, it hunched over, threw its head down, and _purged_.

Cliffjumper didn't notice at first, blissfully unaware. Then he frowned as he felt something warm and wet sliding between his shoulder gears, and he swiveled his head to look. And saw the frightened organic wiping its mouth.

"_Gahhhhh_!" The red warrior proceeded with his rendition of the universal chicken dance of disgust.

The organic screamed as it tumbled to the ground, but Cliffjumper ignored it for the moment, more concerned with the disgusting feeling of a foreign substance under his armor. _Primus_, did that thing just do what he think it did?!

"What the- _YOU_! WHAT THE SLAG WAS THAT?! Cliffjumper roared, catching sight of Sideswipe (conveniently with no Sunstreaker in sight; he'd made good on his threat to not get involved). Sideswipe was already halfway out the door and laughing his ass off, and soon Cliffjumper was in hot pursuit, shouting for the red menace to face him like a mech and how'd he like it if he put some slimy organic on _him_?

They both, it seemed, forgot about said slimy organic. Titanic footsteps stopped shaking the earth as their owners ran far away. When her wits eventually returned like an hour later, Connie crawled to the nearest vent; anything to get away from these metal monsters.

…..

_Some time later_

.….

"It was just a prank!" Sideswipe said.

Cliffjumper jabbed a finger at him, engine revving hotly. "Yeah? Well it. Wasn't. _Funny_."

"Enough, both of you."

They shut up and begrudgingly focused back on Prowl, who looked most displeased at having his day interrupted by such nonsense. He gave Sideswipe a long suffering look. "Do I even want to know where you acquired the animal?"

"Hehe, uh, I was just borrowing it." The red Twin stuttered.

Prowl stared him down. "Without its owner's permission, I'm sure."

"I was gonna give it back."

Prowl laced his fingers together, elbows on his desk. "Then _where_," he demanded, "_is_ it?"

There was suddenly a clicking noise and then something screamed above them, but Sideswipe, the magnificent bastard, managed to catch it in a mid air flip.

Holy frag, it was the organic. _Unbelievable_. But not something he couldn't work with.

"Right here, _Sir_!" He declared proudly, popping a snappy salute like he'd totally planned this. Prowl's left optic twitched, and then his helm hit the desk.

He'd glitched.

"Frag!" Cliffjumper jumped, unable to process what just happened. He kept glancing between their knocked out CO and a triumphant Sideswipe, demanding, "What the-...When...how did you set that up?" He tried to stop smiling, because he was still angry at the mech, but damn that was funny.

"Secret of the trade, my mech. Secret of the trade." Sideswipe said, petting the organic. Man, this thing was buckets of fun. "Hey, how's about we ditch? Prowl doesn't remember stuff from five minutes before a crash, and we've been in here, what, three?"

At Cliffjumper's glare, he offered, "Look, I'm sorry Fluffy here purged on you, I didn't make him do that. How about five cubes of my best highgrade and we call it even?"

Cliffjumper frowned. Tempting. And it benefited him more than Sideswipe being in the brig. Still-

"Eight cubes." He demanded haughtily.

"Six."

"Seven. It _purged_ on me you twit."

"Fine. But this," he gestured to the organic, "remains between us. Deal?"

"Deal."

They booked it before Mr. Law and Order woke up and jailed them for eternity, Sideswipe practically skipping down the hall with his new pet in hand: because screw Skyfire, now he just _had_ to keep it. This was fate, nay, destiny; it was clearly meant to be.

"I'm baaaaa_aaaaaaack_." He sang, barging into his and Sunny's quarters. They had bunk-berths to make more room, and Sunstreaker was lying on his now, working a datapad with a worn stylus. He didn't even look up.

"Wow. That was fast."

"That's what she said," Sideswipe snickered, climbing the little ladder to his bunk and settling down with the organic in his lap.

"What'd Prowl give you? A week in the brig? Tank duty? I hope it sucks."

"None of those, dear Sunshine." The red Twin cackled, ignoring the comment in lieu of inspecting Fluffy. Fluffy needed a better designation than Fluffy, because he wasn't _really _fluffy when you thought about it. Something totally kickass.

Silence reigned for a minute, so he said, "What? Don't you want to know what I got?"

"Not particularly." Sunstreaker sighed.

"Too bad, cause I'm gonna tell you. I got - wait for it - _this_!"

He heard (and felt) it when Sunstreaker's helm hit the underside of his berth. "The frag? _Sideswipe_! Why do you still have that?!"

"Because I'm keeping it." Sideswipe said, cradling the petrified creature close to show how absolutely cute and harmless it was. "It's destiny."

"It's _disgusting_!"

"It can't help what it is."

"You don't even know how to take care of that!" Sunstreaker spluttered. He was absolutely not sharing quarters with, as Sideswipe put it, "destiny".

"I'll manage." Sideswipe said.

"It doesn't belong to us."

"Oh please," Sideswipe huffed. "Skyfire would of dissected it by the end of the week. And this way, we can train it to mess with people."

"You," Sunstreaker hissed, "are an idiot if you think that'll _ever_ work."

"Hey, when you know, you know, and I know." Sideswipe grinned. This was gonna be fun.

"If it so much as touches my stuff, I'm shooting it." Sunstreaker said deadass, seeing his Twin couldn't be persuaded by logic and not in the mood for another brawl, especially when the fight could end with parts of some alien strewn in his frame. He shuddered.

And went back to drawing on his berth.

* * *

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